It's a wonderful life
by Flyingwiththeflock425
Summary: sort of AU. Callie Jacobs has a secret: She cuts. After almost getting caught in the act by her foster brother, she must fight to keep her secret safe, all while dealing with school, friends, family, drama, and her developing feelings for said foster brother. eventual brallie ;). This is my first fanfiction, so please be nice, and give it a try!
1. Chapter 1

The first cut stung enough to make her cringe. She knew it would hurt, of course, that's what she had been aiming for, but nonetheless she was still surprised. The razor glinted in the darkness as she slid it across her wrist, again wincing as the creamy white flesh parted and warm blood came spilling out to dribble down her arm. She cut in nice, straight lines, with the steady, experienced hand of a master. Deep enough to hurt, but not deep enough to injure. Not seriously, at least. She had enough to deal with without having to think about Stef or Lena finding her lying in a pool of her own blood on their bathroom floor, unconscious from blood loss.

When she was almost satisfied, (she never really was), she cleaned herself up quickly and silently padded down the hall to the room she shared with Mariana. But before she could open the door, a warm, heavy hand dropped down onto her shoulder.

Pure panic enveloped her, and she had spun around and hit her attacker before she could even process what was happening. A voice broke through the unnatural silence of the night, its soothing yet unsteady tone doing nothing to calm her down, and a low whimper escaped her lips as she jerked away from the unwanted touch.

"Callie? Woah, woah, calm down. I'm not going to hurt you." Breathing hard, Callie stepped back and warily put down her clenched fists. It was Brandon, just Brandon. She breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed her taut muscles. Callie could see a bright red mark beginning to blossom on his cheek where her fist had connected with his face; and she felt a blush spread across her cheeks. She tugged at her sleeves self consciously.

"What are you doing awake?" She asked nervously, bouncing on the balls of her feet. This boy was nosy, she knew, and although he meant well she had no idea what he would do if he found out about her- er, _habit._ Brandon ran a hand through his messy hair and shrugged.

"I couldn't sleep, and so I was going downstairs to grab a drink of water. You?" Callie looked away and scratched at the back of her neck. She was lucky at least that he was still half asleep, for usually he was more observant. Surely he would have noticed that her sleeves, which were pulled down over her hands were soaked with a wet dark red if he were at his best. In her hurry to get back to bed, Callie hadn't cleaned up properly, and she was still freely bleeding from the mess of cuts going from her elbow down. But instead of putting two and two together, her foster brother was drunkenly smiling down at her with his hair a mess, cheeks rosy and eyes glazed over. Even taking a hit to the face hadn't completely woken him up, and despite the seriousness of the situation she couldn't keep herself from snorting in amusement. It was _adorable, _she was shocked to realize.

"I woke up and had to go to the bathroom." She stuttered out. It was a lie of course, but Brandon nodded sleepily and seemed to accept it. It wasn't like she was going to tell him that she had lay awake, consumed in her own anxiety and self hatred wishing that Marianna would quit texting and just _go to sleep_ so she could lock herself in the bathroom and indulge. Callie had been itching for her razor all day, and in her impatience snapped at Jude, who had been trying to tell her something about his friend Connor and his little gaming device. She had immediately felt guilty, and insisted that he continue telling her about his day, but he cold shouldered her and ran off to lick his wounds. That had hurt, but she wasn't mad. His reaction was understandable. After having his sister to himself for the last few years, being ignored was not something he was used to.

Callie didn't want to be like that, so dependent on her blade that she couldn't even go a few days without longing for it and taking out her frustration on others, but she hadn't been able to cut all week. On Monday she had fallen asleep before Mariana, and on Tuesday she walked in on Lena taking some pills that the woman had declared as "secret" and frantically made Callie swear not to tell anyone about. She was hurried back to bed by her foster moms guiding hand, no questions asked, and after that encounter she didn't dare venture back to her nightly routine until just then at least, Friday night when she knew that Lena wouldn't be awake. Friday night was "family night" and Lena was out like a light with Stef snoring on her shoulder by 10:30, with a DVD only halfway played and no one really interested except Jesus, who had picked the action flick they were 'watching'.

She knew her addiction was dangerous. She knew that she shouldn't long to hold the cool blade to her wrist, slicing carefully and precisely and enjoying the stinging pain that came with it. That wasn't normal. But _she_ wasn't normal. How many other kids did she know that had been in countless different families, but never really belonged in any of them? Not many. Not _any. _

Brandon cleared his throat, pulling her from her musings, and she realized with horror that she had just been standing there in silence for the last two minutes. However, he didn't seem to mind. He seemed content just _looking _at her. Callie reached out and turned him around, resting her hand on the small of his back. He radiated warmth. "Go on." She said, giving him a little push towards the general direction of his room. He staggered inside, leaving the door ajar and Callie confused as to what had just happened. He didn't seem to care that he hadn't gotten his drink of water.

She quickly and quietly slipped into her room and slid into bed. She was exhausted, and desperately hoped that she would fall asleep with ease, but the universe still wasn't on her side and so she lay awake in silence, ignoring the throbbing of her forearms and listening to the clock tick on and trying to keep her dark thoughts at bay without much success. Now, with no company but her sadness and the humor of her encounter with a sleepy Brandon quickly fading, she let a tiny sob escape her lips, and curled up into a ball under her comforter and squeezed her eyes shut tight.

She didn't get much peace that night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello, my lovely readers. I was so excited to get your reviews and follows! I honestly didn't think that this story would get any response at all. Anyway, I thought I should explain this story. It should take place after Mariana and Jesus' birthday. Alas, I do not know how to spell quinceneara (I'm so sorry I have failed.) It's Au-ish in the sense that Wyatt and Callie are not together, and that Callie self harms. Also, no one knows that Liam rape her. (Note: I in no way condone self harm. It's a horrible thing, an addiction that many people suffer from, and this story is only to see how Callie would deal with that.) So I'm not sure that this chapter will be as good as the first. But keep in mind that I have to get the story going somehow! So prepare for some uneventful chapters. Special thanks to BrallieLover123! We PM'd multiple times, and I was inspired to write very much. So this chapter is dedicated to her! Happy reading! **

Breakfast the next morning was uneventful. Mariana was chattering about her plans to go to the mall with friends, and Jude about how Connor would be coming over that afternoon. Conversations were overlapping as people bustled about the kitchen, eating and talking while forks clinked against plates and sunlight streamed in through the window, bathing everything in a soft light. Callie was quiet. Brandon hadn't said a word about their late night encounter, and she was beginning to wonder if he even remembered it. He _had_ been half asleep when it happened. Or maybe, she ventured, he was embarrassed? What for, she wasn't sure, but he refused to make direct eye contact with her and he hadn't asked her if she wanted to practice on her guitar while he played his piano. And they _always _did that on Saturdays, for as long as Callie had been there.

Callie noticed that the red mark on Brandons face from when she hit him the previous night had blossomed into a full on bruise. It was purple and angry-looking and spread across the side of his left cheek. A concerned mother as always, Stef had immediately zeroed in on it the moment he sauntered in, cupping his face in her hands and demanding to know how he got it. He spared a quick glance in Callie's general direction before turning back to his mom and swearing up and down that he had no idea how it got there. She excused herself from the table, leaving him to deal with her on his own. At least he would be keeping it a secret, she thought. Maybe she could trust this boy. Maybe.

Callie winced as she cleaned her cuts and applied new gauze. When she had woken up in the morning, the white shirt she had slept in was soaked with blood, and her wrists were burning in a constant reminder of what she had done. In a way, however, she didn't regret it at all. She hadn't meant to start cutting again. It just sort of happened.

**TWO WEEKS AGO**

Callie shot up in bed like a rocket, drenched with sweat and breathing heavily. Shivering, she retreated further under her comforter, burying her head under her pillows to hide herself from view completely. Every movement suddenly seemed threatening. Shadows dancing around the walls sent shivers up her spine, and she knew she was going to be sick.

Callie had dreamt of him again. Dreamt of_ Liam, _and what he had done to her. Tears of anger and humiliation streamed down her face as she relived the memory once again. She had been 14. _14._ And he had_ forced _her. All while baring his teeth predatorily and whispering "_It's okay, Callie. Calm down sweetheart. Don't struggle, you're only going to ruin this for both of us. It won't hurt. Now stop crying and let me enjoy this."_

A sniffle broke loose, and before she knew it she was curled up shaking and shivering while her body wracked with sobs. She felt it all over again, his strong arms that she had once admired restraining her from moving, one sweaty hand held over her mouth to shut her up and the other exploring her body, blindly groping her as she kicked and fought.

_Slap_.

His hand cracked across her face. "Shut the fuck up you slut." Liam growled into her ear. "We wouldn't want your brother waking up, would we?" Her eyes were clenched shut tightly and she couldn't see him, but she was hyperaware of everything around her and could almost _sense_ the sadistic smile spreading across his face. Jude. He was only ten. What would he do if he woke up and found his sister like this? More importantly, what would Liam do? Callie went limp. All she could think of was little Jude, covered in bruises and cowering in the corner as Liam beat on him. And how it would be_ her fault._ Not knowing what to do, she let her head fall back on the pillow and shut down. The last thing she heard before passing out in fear and pain was Liam whispering in her ear "_Good girl. I knew you would submit eventually"_

Liam got away with it. He ruined her life. _And he never got in trouble._ No one even found out, because Liam knew that he could get Callie and Jude kicked out of that house before she could say "Mrs. Olmstead, your son, he- he raped me." And he did.

Callie forced herself out of that memory, and purposefully rushed down the hall to the bathroom. She dropped down to the cold tile floor and doubled over the toilet, retching. Acidy bile came up her throat, burning like fire as she threw up. The inside of her mouth tasted terrible, and she moaned in disgust as she swiped the back of her sleeve across her mouth. Callie got up on all fours and crawled over to the cabinet, shuddering.

She began to rummage through the drawers determinedly. Tears blurred her vision as she wrapped her hand around the object she had been searching for and pulled it out: a razor. Choked up and not trusting herself not to make noise, Callie pulled up her sleeve and looked down at her arms. In the faint glow of the moonlight, she could see faded scars buried in her skin.

Her head began to pound. Did she really want to do this? She had been clean for at least a year and a half, and cutting again would make all of her self-restraint useless. Liam's smile flashed through her head, and Callie came to a decision. She brought the blade down and relished in the burning pain that tore through her body. Warm blood came rushing out and Callie groaned as it trickled, wet and slick down her arm and onto her clothes.

At least it gave her something to focus on other than the memories.

**PRESENT DAY**

The constant pounding in her head signaled that a migraine was coming on, so Callie popped a few aspirins into her mouth, swallowing with great difficulty. Her throat was beginning to ache. She decided to take a nap. Hopefully, she would be able to sleep it off.

Brandon felt like an idiot. A huge, stupid fucking idiot. He got up from his piano bench and stretched. Why had he acted so dumb? Staring at Callie like a complete freak the night before. He was too embarrassed to even meet her eyes. He was sure that she knew. Knew about his idiotic little _crush_ on her.

Whatever. She was almost certainly wondering why he hadn't shown up to help her with guitar. Avoiding her would only confirm that. Closing his door behind him, he took a deep breath and walked down to Callie and Mariana's room. He knocked on the door. No response was given, but he peeked in anyway, out of both curiosity and a bad feeling tugging in his gut. Callie was sprawled across her bed, uncovered and snoring. Brandon moved a bit closer, planning to throw a blanket over her, but stopping when he noticed something weird on her left arm. A cluttered mess of bandages. His eyebrows drew together.

Puzzled, he darted forwards to pull them back. For a moment he feared waking her up, but he soon noticed that she was out for the count. He peeled back the gauze with no problems at all. Brandon immediately paled at what he saw. Cuts, going all the way up her arm. Alarm and confusion swirled around in his stomach as he checked her other arm. Same story. _Callie self-harmed?_

Since when? And why didn't he know about it? He'd seen her wrists before. He almost wished that he hadn't seen at all, actually. Backpedaling, he threw a blanket over her body and slipped out of the room. _Oh god_, Brandon thought. Had that been what she'd been doing when he ran into her the night before? Hurting herself?

Brandon felt sick. _Why_ did she do it? Was it their fault? Was she unhappy with them? She seemed okay. But she could be acting. Lying was an art well mastered by anyone who had gone through even half of what she had. He put his head in his hands, not knowing what to do. It wasn't like he could tell anyone. He would have to deal with this himself, or risk Callie getting into trouble.

Yeah, he would talk to Callie. Let her know that he knew what was going on, and that it needed to stop. He'd take care of it. He'd help Callie.

He could, couldn't he?


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! Thank you for the follows and favs. It's appreciated. You know what else would be appreciated? Reviews ;). no but seriously, they make me want to update faster. I planned to write this chapter earlier, but I discovered a beautiful new show called attack on titan and I'm addicted. You can blame my brother for that. Anyone else watch? ((Mikasa is fucking great)). I really wasn't sure what I'd be doing with this plot at first, but the ideas are just flying in. Okay, on with the chapter! Remember to leave feedback :)**

Brandon flopped onto his bed, defeated. It was already Wednesday afternoon, a whole four days since he had found out about Callie's secret, and yet he still had no idea how to go about approaching her. He had tried to observe her, to see if there were any noticeable changes in her, but there really weren't. She still played with Jude. Still finished off the carton of orange juice the day they bought it. Still went out with Wyatt. (At first, Brandon had been a little jealous about that, but it soon became clear to him that neither Callie or Wyatt had any romantic interest in each other. Their bond was purely platonic.) She even still refused to do her homework.

Anyway, Brandon hadn't seen any big changes in Callie besides the fact that she seemed more on edge and was a bit less patient. But the girl could lie with ease that sometimes scared him, and he knew that it could all be an act, her just pretending to be okay. If he planned to help her, Brandon would have to be careful about that.

He had spent the last hour pacing the floor, stressed. Callie had cut again last night. He knew it. The tiny metal garbage can in the bathroom was overflowing with tissues, all stiff and stained dark with blood. Before he could do anything about it, Brandon would have to find out _why._ And come up with a plan to get her to stop without the moms or her social worker finding out. Who knew what they would do? Callie and Jude might even be taken out of their house. Callie already went to group therapy, but they would probably have to pay for her to see one separately. Things would fall apart. He knew it.

And he couldn't let that happen. Sighing, he sat down at his piano, put on his headphones, and let his fingers fly over the keys. This was something he understood. Something he _knew, _and as he got deeper and deeper into the music, somewhere to _escape_.

**LINEBREAKLINEBREAKLINEBREAKLINEBREAK**

"Callie, wait up." She stopped, not bothering to turn around. It was Wyatt, she knew, and she heard his sneakers scuff the ground as he ran to catch up with her. They fell into an easy rhythm, laughing and talking, arms swinging at their sides carelessly. Callie even found herself feeling _good_ for one of the first times in a while. The air was warm and breezy and clean, and was gently tugging through her hair as she jogged to keep up with her friend, who was telling her about an art contest he had won two years prior. She barely felt the chafing of her bandages rubbing against her skin.

She and Wyatt ducked into a Walgreens on a street corner. Wyatt's mother had asked him to pick up her prescription pills, and they were going to stop there before going to a party. Callie looked down at the ground. She didn't really want to go, but she had already said yes. She decided to walk around the store a bit, maybe pick up a chocolate bar for Jude.

Callie picked up a basket and started strolling through the aisles, grabbing some candy, tissues, rubbing alcohol, and a blade sharpener. She was walking towards the counter to pay when she saw something that made her stop dead in her tracks. Her arms went slack at her sides, and her goods crashed to the floor.

Tall, broad-chested and muscular, Liam Olmstead looked exactly like he had the last time she had seen him. His blond hair still swooped up a little in the front, his blue eyes still pierced, and he was still absolutely terrifying. Hehadnt noticed her, he was busy at the check out, but she held her breath, knowing that he could turn around and see her at any moment. He was only about fifteen feet away. She could hear her blood pounding in her ears, and time seemed to slow to a stop. Her breathing quickened and she wanted to run, but she couldn't make her legs move.

_Oh my god oh my god oh my god he's here he's here and he's going to hurt me again._ Callie felt gross all over, and invisible hands ghosted across her body, a memory of _him_ and how he'd touched her. She managed to stagger halfway across the store to Wyatt, who was finishing up with an employee.

"Wyatt. I have to get out of here."

Brows creased in confusion, he turned around and looked at her. She was sickly pale and her wide, wild eyes conveyed a fear that her voice didn't. She sounded… robotic. He reached over and grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Callie. Calls, what's wrong?" He was starting to get worried. She looked like death warmed over when she spoke. "He's here." Her body suddenly began to convulse, and silent tears streamed down her face. People were starting to stare, but no one made a move to help. They seemed to be making quite the commotion.

"Who's here. Who's here Callie? Can you hear me?" She slumped against him, and Wyatt knew he had to get her out of there. He heaved her up and dragged her outside. Something was seriously wrong, and he was starting to panic. He reached into Callie's back pocket to grab her cell phone, but the second his hand made contact with her her eyes fluttered open, and she backhanded him across the face.

"Get away from me!" She cried in terror, staggering back a few steps before falling onto the ground and curling into a little ball. Her cheek pressed into the cool concrete.

"Woah, relax, I just need your phone" Wyatt said, inching towards her, arms held out in defense. He picked it up from the ground where it lay and began to scroll through her contact list. He called Stef first. No answer. Then Lena. He got the voicemail. Not knowing who else he _could_ call, he clicked on the name Brandon and waited. One ring.

Two rings.

Three rings.

Then an answer.

"Hello?"

**LINEBREAKLINEBREAKLINEBREAKLINEBREAKLINEBREAK**

Brandon picked up his buzzing phone and put it up to his ear. "Hello? Callie?"

"No it's me, Wyatt. Listen man, I need you to come pick us up. She saw some guy in a store and _flipped.___I don't know who he is or what he did to make her like this but she's sitting on the ground shaking and she won't talk and she won't let me touch her. I think she's having a panic attack." Brandon was silent for a moment.

"Okay." He relented. "Tell me where you are." Grateful, Wyatt gave him directions, and Brandon got into his car and began to drive, worrying the whole way there.

When he arrived, Callie was lying on a sidewalk crying while Wyatt tried to make her talk to him. She wouldn't. He opened the door and got out to help Wyatt pick her up and buckle her in.

"Callie. What's the matter?" Brandon took her face in his hands and held it up gently so that she would have to look into his eyes. "What did you see that scared you so much?" He murmured thoughtfully, wiping away her tears with his thumb. He knew he shouldn't be so intimate, he wasn't allowed to, but for some reason he couldn't quite stop himself.

She jerked her head out from his hands and shivered, saying only one word: "Liam. " Brandon froze. Liam like from her journal? Liam who Talya had tried to tell him about? Pondering these thoughts, Brandon drove Wyatt home, and after promising to keep him updated with what was going on with Callie, went back home and tucked Callie into bed. She had calmed down considerably, and Brandon decided that the moms didn't really need to know. He was tired of secrets, however, and now he had another thing to interrogate Callie about.

Who was Liam? And what had he done to mess her up so bad that she had a panic attack just from seeing him?


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi guys! I'm so so so so so sorry for the wait! My computer broke down, and I had to get it fixed. Anyway, this will not happen again. I promise. I'll try to be a consistent updater. At one pointlast chapter I wrote a sentence where Brandon decided not to tell Stef and Lena. I don't know why I wrote that, I changed my mind. He knows that he has to tell them, and he will. Eventually at least. ;). Remember to shoot me a quick review and tell me what you think! Here goes nothing!**

"Callie. Callie wake up." Brandon reached out one hand hesitantly, wanting to shake her awake but afraid of how she would react. After a minute of contemplating, he decided just to go for it. He placed his hand on her shoulder and began to gently shake her. Luckily, she didn't bolt up in bed, just groaned sleepily and burrowed further under her covers.

"Come on Cal, you have to get up." He persuaded. Callie had been sleeping for the past two hours, two hours in which Brandon had spent wondering just what the hell had happened. After her episode out with Wyatt, she had seemed drained, so Brandon had basically dragged her up to the room she shared with Mariana, and, after making her take an asprin, let her get her rest.

However, he knew that his moms would both be home within the next hour or so, and that he would have to tell them what happened. No matter what he thought, how hard his mind protested for him to just keep quiet and protect Callie, he also knew that it was in her best interests to tell Lena and Stef. So now, he had to wake her up and find out what exactly had happened for himself. And maybe, just maybe, it would clue him in on why Callie did what she did to herself.

In her bed, Callie started to stir, stretching and yawning and letting her body wake up. Brandon stood up from his crouch next to the bed and cleared his throat. Almost immediately, Callies head whipped around and she stifled a scream as she scrambled back away from him. "Woah, relax!" he said, putting his hands up defensively and backing away from her. "Calm down."

She breathed deeply, in and out, in and out. _Calm down._ She pulled her legs free of the sheets and swung them over so that she was sitting on the edge of the bed, and she patted the mattress next to her as if to invite Brandon to sit down next to her. Callie had some explaining to do, and she knew it.

Brandon opened his mouth, impatient, a stream of questions threatening to spill from his lips at any given second. After a moment of deafening silence passed by, he spoke, words heavy and dropping like stones. "What happened."

Callie closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. "There's a lot of things you don't know about me Brandon." Hesitantly, she began to recount the horrible tale, of Liam, what he did to her, and how he had gotten away with it. Just now, the physical pain she felt deep in her chest when she had seen him again. Her lip curled in disgust as she spoke, and Brandon started feeling sick to his stomach as she went into detail. She told Brandon much more than he wanted to know, frankly, but he was frozen. He couldn't ask her to stop, couldn't move, couldn't do anything but gape at her as she continued her speech. How she had felt his hot breath puffing into her neck, his rough hands nearly strangling her into cooperation.

Tears of frustration began to stream down Callie's face, and her hands tangled into her hair. Her arms were wrapped around her legs tightly, pressing them uncomfortably into her chest and making it a strain to breath. But she didn't give any indication that she would be moving anytime soon. Callie stayed, folding into herself, as if to disappear.

Silence descended upon them as her voice trailed off into a whisper, and finally stopped altogether. She and Brandon just looked at each other for a small eternity.

He suddenly reached out, grabbed her arm, and yanked up her sleeve. "That's why you do this to yourself, isn't it Callie." She nodded awkwardly. There was passion in his voice when he spoke again.

"You need to stop"

Callie rolled her eyes, and fiercely pulled her arm back. "You're not my brother Brandon. Or my father, social worker, nothing. You aren't in charge of me, and you have no right to dictate what I do to myself, or really anything I do for that matter!" She spat, rearing back and glaring at him. "If I want to hurt myself, I damn will, and if you say anything about it to Stef or Lena, I'll leave. I can, you know I can, and you know that I will. This is a temporary situation for Jude and I. I can pack us up and be out of here before you know it. So don't try to act like you know what's best for me."

She stood up, brushed herself off, and walked out of the room, lips pressed together tightly. Brandon let out a groan of frustration, holding his fists down to stop himself from grabbing something and throwing it at the wall. Why did she have to be so fucking difficult when he was only trying to help her? He knew that he had to tell his moms, especially now that he knew what that sick fuck Liam had put her through.

How was he supposed to help her if she didn't let him? Brandon knew deep down that he had no right to tell anyone that Callie had been raped, that would be disgustingly insensitive of him, but if he didn't do something she would continue to harm herself. And if he did do something, she would leave, and be out of his life forever. Not-so-surprisingly, he knew that that was something he couldn't let happen, not just for her and Jude's safety but for some selfish reason that he would barely admit to himself.

He _loved_ her, god damn it. And he was _not_ about to let her go storming out of his life just as suddenly as she had come in. He slunk down the hallway to his room and plopped down on the chair at his desk, reclining and staring up at the spinning blades of the ceiling fan. Downstairs he heard the sounds of the door being unlocked, and Lena announced her presence to the house.

"I'm home!" She chirped. Brandon pulled himself up and went down the stairs to greet her in the kitchen. Callie was there, looking considerably calmer. Her face was no longer red, and her breathing was steadier, but her left arm was casually held behind her back, and Brandon had a sneaking suspicion that she had indulged in her 'habit' again, by the fact that her arm was shaking and he was trying too hard with that poker face she was wearing.

He side-eyed her as Lena put her bag down on the table and began to make small talk, sensing that something was wrong but not quite understanding what. He was going to have to try and convince her to tell the moms. He tried not to dwell on what he would have to do if she still refused to get help, knowing fully well what a huge violation of her trust that would be.

Once again, Brandon ran her words through his mind. "I'll leave. I can, you know I can, and you know that I will." He would tell. He would, and he would find away to stop Callie from slipping away, both physically and mentally.

_I can._ He thought. _I can, and I know that I will._ With one last calculating look at Callie, he turned, brushed past her, and climbed back up the stairs.

_I will._


End file.
